Wendy's Wish
by D3v7onB
Summary: A new look at the very beginning. Wendy is a sheltered teenage girl living in London. Peter is a teenage boy who has never found love. What pursues when stars collide?
1. The Boy at the Window

**NOTES: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! THESE CHARACTERS ARE AMAZING AND AWESOME AND STUFF SO I COULDN'T HAVE POSSIBLY WRITTEN THEM. **

**ALSO: I dont have a beta, so please ignore grammar and shiz... I'm not the best speller either (word spell check was done though :D) **

**I'm not sure where this is going to go... BUT review it if you think i should keep writing or if I should quit whilst ahead :D **

WENDY'S WISH

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><p><strong>Wendy<strong>

The cold winter evening shook the abundance of snow from the trees outside the window of 16-year-old Wendy Darling's bedroom window. Sat alone on one of the three tiny beds in the overly large room sat a girl with long brown hair tide up in a blue ribbon and bright inquisitive eyes to match. Wendy loved the color blue. Everything about it made her want to smile, but tonight was not a night for smiling. In fact, you would think that this girl, the one sitting by herself in a lofty attic bedroom with dim lamps set on every surface, would never smile. You see Wendy has a secret. One she has never told a living soul. Not even Nana, her trusted caregiver. A secret crush on a boy she has only ever met in her stories, a boy who completely shocked her emotions into believing in something so fickle as love. He ran around her subconscious constantly, causing mayhem and mischief where ever he went. This is one of the things she liked most about Peter.

"Peter." Even the whisper of his name sent deep shivers down her spine. It was not that it was an unusual name of any sorts. It was just that Peter had given her something that she had never believed in before. Freedom. She longed for the day that her father would let her make all her own choices. She felt like Alice. Lost in a world that was not her own. A world created by her father that tried to mould her into what her father thought was appropriate. "Peter." A feint smile started to play across her lips as she lay back on her pillows, staring up at the ceiling, counting the 17 cracks in the plaster. 17 cracks.

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><p><strong>Peter<strong>

Peter sat and watched as Wendy lay on her bed by herself smiling gently. Always smiling.

"I wish I knew what she was smiling about!" Peter grumbled to himself for the umpteenth time since the summer faded to autumn and he had stumbled upon the very window he was now peering into. She was beautiful! With her careful grace and beautiful lips… Lips. He could never understand why, but her lips seemed to enchant her. It was all he could ever think about on the long journey home.

THUMP. "Oh god!" Peter exclaimed as his foot slipped from the ledge and his head was thrust forward into the glass. He made to quickly move out of her line of vision but too late. The terror in her eyes was undeniable. He could not blame her of course, a strange boy sitting on the ledge of a third story window in the middle of a snowstorm. The look gave him an unexpected pang. He did not like the way her eyes changed from their gentle and loving state to pure horror at the mere sight of him.

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><p><strong>Wendy<strong>

She blinked. This can't be happening she muttered to herself, her eyes wide with disbelief. The was not a chance in the whole of the world that this boy could be sitting on her windowsill watching her as she… well, as she did nothing.

"I must have fallen asleep. Yes! That's right! I have simply fallen asleep and this is all just a dream!" She told herself, but if this was a dream then she could talk to him. "PETER!" she called and laughed at the startled expression on the boys face. "Come in Peter its ok!" The boy moved tentatively at first. Almost as if not to fully believe his daring. Slowly he unlatched the window and flew... I mean dropped, into the room still wearing his confused but excited expression. Like a little boy who was just told his Christmas wish was going to come true but by an older sibling. Not totally believable but believable to make you excited enough that your facial expressions give you away.

"How do you know my name?" he enquired. This had Wendy stumped. How did she know his name? I would sound to strange to say that I imagined you in my head before tonight, but this is a dream! Isn't it? How else would she know this boy whom she'd never met before's name?

"Do not know my name then?" she asked, downcast. How could he not know her name when she had spent every waking moment for the past 3 months thinking about nothing but this boy and his freedom? His excitement.

"W-Wendy, Wendy Darling." He stuttered, stopping Wendy in her tracks. He knew her name. He just said it! She couldn't believe it! He knew her name, and the way he said it. It could make the bottom fall out of any girl's stomach.

"Yes," she replied. Her attempt at cool indifference failing miserably with the crack her voice made. She still could not believe a boy could make her feel this way from simply uttering her name. There must be something wrong with her! This dream was far too realistic to be normal.

"I'm sorry." He stated, abruptly bringing Wendy back from her inner thoughts, "I didn't mean to stare. It's just that… umm… ever since I first saw you through your window at the beginning of autumn, I haven't been able to stop coming back." He smiled sheepishly. "You just looked so happy all of the time it was just hard for me to stay away."

This was news to her. "A-autumn?" she asked, her voice cracking for a second time. That was about the same time she had begun to write her stories about him, this young boy of about her age with the bright blue eyes. Her heart stopped. "Am I awake? Or am I Dreaming?"

Confusion appeared on the boys face, "You're awake." he replied the confusion in his voice making her heart flutter. Why did he have to be so god damned attractive when he was confused?

What Peter said finally dawned on her. "Oh. My. God. I thought you didn't exist! I thought I made you up in one of my stories! How can you be here? How can you-" she broke off abruptly. What she had seen earlier. That was no trick of the light. He flew. Just like he did in her stories.  
>-<p>

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><p><strong>Peter<strong>

He was becoming more and more confused with this girl's erratic behavior, a figment of her imagination? I don't exist? "Just to clarify," he said, "you think that I'm just a figure of your imagination? I don't exist? That I couldn't possibly exist because you write stories about me?"

"Y-yes." She Stuttered. "I've been writing about you for months and months, you were kind of almost an obsession" she confessed guiltily.

Well this was new to him! Could she maybe feel the same way that I feel about her? Could the fantasies he constructed potentially become a reality? Would she even consider the possibility that she could come with him to Neverland? The land that held the very essence of youthful innocence! A place with no limitations and no one to pass a snide remark at your slightest fumble! Well, except for Tink, but she doesn't matter at this point!

"Why have you been at my window since autumn?" she asked, bringing his train of thought to an abrupt halt. "What I mean is… What could have possibly possessed you to keep coming back? It's just me and my brothers here at night. Nothing interesting ever happens in here other than the occasional tumble out of bed, or me." A sudden gust of wind ripped through the room, causing Wendy to lose balance and began her ungraceful decent to the floor. He lunged, reaching her just in time for her to land on him.

"Oof!" Her petite frame was either extremely misgiving or she was about to break her tailbone.

"Oh! Peter!" She exclaimed, overly breathy, "You saved my life!" A little melodramatic he thought, but never the less he was pleased at her reaction. At least she hadn't thought that he was creepy or anything. That would have made his goal here tonight rather more difficult than he would have necessarily liked. It was already going to be nearly impossible to convince her that it would be the right decision to make. I mean, come on! Its not every day that a flying pixie boy comes out of nowhere to ask you to fly away with him a never look back. The thought of his response had there been a proposal reversal was enough to make him scoff! But still, he had to ask her! It was the only way he could survive on the island any longer… The boys were cool to hang around with but even the best of them needed a girl to make things better. He was struggling to look after the boys now that they were getting older at heart. Obviously they could never truly age, such is the magic of Neverland, but still they were teenagers in children's bodies, and to be brutally honest, he just couldn't handle them alone anymore.

They were unruly and overtly horny at all times. Not to mention what they do at the moment the lights go out. As much as he knew convincing her would be all most impossibly challenging. He had to! He also had needs; he was just more experienced in how to conduct himself. He was a lot older than most when he was smuggled away by the pirates during one of their more infamous journeys onto the mainland. But that was what, 10 years ago? Longer maybe… he hadn't seen his family since. He hadn't wanted to. They would have forgotten him by now, stopped looking, and moved on without him. He was stuck in Neverland, his own perfect prison cell.

"Really it was nothing," he tried to sound cool and nonchalant, "anyone would have done the same thing." A look of joy mixed with anxiety flashed in her eyes. Odd thought Peter, I thought she liked me. I thought that she would have been glad to see me. All that nonsense of him pretending that the reasoning behind her knowledge of him name was all a façade. He knew that she was writing about him. Knew that she should have been over the moon that her one true love had finally confronted her. Had he misjudged her pen? Misread the signs and obvious hints that she was leaving for him, scattered in her writing? Was he that much of an idiot to think that maybe she was only story telling, writing something that had no relevance to her life, but just a fiction story with a character by the same name because she just couldn't come up with another one suitable.

Now he was just being paranoid. She would come with him! She had to! "W-Wendy" he asked tentatively.

"Yes Peter?" she replied, he could see right through her façade. Her false nonchalance and overly cool tone she was trying to use.

"What would you say if I told you that Neverland was real?


	2. The Best Adventures

**WRITERS NOTES:**

**Hello amazing peoples :D As promised a new chapter for your guys just in time for the Easter weekend (In you live in a country with a normal time-zone, sorry aussies! :P). Anyway, I have potentially kinda sorta decided to split each chapter (update thing) into alternating Peter/Wendy. Purely because (and you'll see this when you read this chapter) that I have A LOT of internal monologue stuff happening for both characters and it kinda gets a bit much if you constantly have to keep switching characters. Tell me what you guys think: D OH AND THANK YOU TO MY REVIEWERS :D LOVE YOU GUYS :3**

**Again. I own nothing of this awesome story, I just write teenage drabble :D**

**PS. Things are going to start picking up and bit and the story will move faster in future chapters… I felt I just needed to give you guys a bit more of where I'm going with the characters so you guys don't have internal brain combustions :D (I'm so considerate )**

Wendy

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><p><em>Neverland. Neverland was real! The place of her fantasies, the place where she had carved out the stories the barraged the inside of her head, the backdrop to her own artistic imagination, a place that couldn't possibly exist. It just couldn't. It would be too perfect.<em>

"Neverland," she swallowed "exists?" Her feigned control was crumbling around her already fragile exterior. Without doubt she needed Neverland to exist, without it, she would never have been able to cope. What with her parents and her overly compulsive aunt, she would not be able to disillusion herself from the unpleasant and unbearable life that they were so intent that she begin to live, had it not been for Neverland. Her stories were her way of escaping reality. Escaping the to the world that she longed to be a part of. A place, she thought, she never could.

"Yes." he whispered, dropping his eyes to the carpet. It was almost as if he had already predicted her response, as if he thought that she wouldn't believe him. Would think that he was insane. As if he had already began to mentally prepare for her rejection, for her to say no and deny the very possibility at the existence of such a place. To one not in the know, Neverland would seem to be a place of fairytales, magical and mystical wonder that most would never truly be able to comprehend. Neverland was not a place for Grownups. Even the young at heart, who do tend to fare better than ordinary grown ups don't belong. It is a place for the young. It is a place where forever and ever can truly mean forever and ever.

He turned and began to make his way back to the window. Where is he going? How long had she been silent for? "Peter!" She called, "Why are you leaving?" she didn't even both to hide the plea in her voice. She didn't want him to leave, she couldn't explain it but she felt that right now, at this moment, she couldn't be away from Peter. It sounded silly, even to her, but Peter had only been in her room for 5 minutes and she felt that he had been there for an eternity! He was like a breath of fresh air after the rain. Wendy loved the rain, but there was always that moment, right after the rain had ended, where the world was still and silent. It only lasted for a few seconds but the memory of the moment, the soothing-ness of the silence was always enough for her to escape to an alternate reality where her father and aunt respected her, where she didn't have to sneak out with her mother into the dark garden late at night to be able to talk about all the burdens and worries she carried. She wasn't ready to grow up. She wasn't ready to leave her school and her brothers and be married to a wealthy man who married her for her beauty.

"You-" he trailed off, "You don't believe me, I guess I understand I just thought that you'd be different" He swallowed and continued, "I mean, I wouldn't believe a 17 year old stranger who causally flew into my bedroom window looking aimlessly for his shadow who is so freaking stubborn that-" He stopped abruptly, eyes wide, as if he had suddenly realized what he had been saying and was desperately trying to revert the conversation in a completely different direction.

"Your what?" Wendy said aghast.

"Did I say shadow? I meant to say swallow, I have a pet swallow you see and she went missing this morning and-" he trailed off, realizing the lameness of his story. He closed his eyes as if waiting for an onslaught from Wendy regarding whether or not he was actually an escapee from a mental institution.

"Your shadow is missing?" said Wendy, completely ignoring his previous statement for both of their benefits. "You mean that you are standing in the dark and that you don't have a shadow because there is no light on you, obviously." Oh god! She had already started using her Aunts foul way of manipulation. She gritted her teeth.

He sighed finally resigning himself to the fact that he will have to tell the truth. "No, I mean that my shadow, who is a complete and utter douche for the record, has decided to ditch me and come here." He was trying to act like this wasn't the most utterly mortifying statement he had ever had to make in his life, and failing miserably.

Wendy blinked. "Ditch you and come here? Why would he come here? What could he possibly want here?"

"Your stories."

"My… You listened to my stories?" He listened to her stories. Her stories, the ones she wrote about him and their adventures in Neverland? Oh how wonderful, how amazing how delightf- _HE LISTENED TO HER STORIES?_ How could he not have mentioned this sooner? Her stories about Neverland were private. At least the ones containing even the slightest mention of Peter were private. Not even her brothers, who were asleep in the room downstairs now that her aunt had insisted that she be given her privacy, the only good thing to come out of her aunt rather irritating interference in her upbringing. But her stories about Peter were never supposed to be heard by anyone. Even her old teddy and Nana weren't privy to those ones.

"Only the ones about Pirates and Indians!" Peter exclaimed. Clearly he could see thorough her transparent layer of coolness into the ever raging hormonal war behind her gentle eyes. "They were my favorite, behind Cinderalla of course-" he blushed. It was the second time in 2 minutes that he had done so. Wendy almost began to think that she made him nervous! How absurd. Even the thought that she could make a boy such as Peter nervous was laughable.

"Did you umm… hear any other's? Err… specifically about Neverland and the umm… warm springs at the base of Mt. Never?" she asked as smoothly and composed as she could muster with her heart beating at the rather of a humming birds wings.

He blushed.

Shit.

He had heard. He had sat on her windowsill and listened whilst she had described a rather enjoyable trip to a natural hot tub where there was no one around with gazing eyes. She couldn't believe it. How could he have heard! Did he stay for the whole thing or did he leave when the story began to get intense.

"Oh." It was the only sound her brain could think to come up with. She had too many thoughts racing through her head, too many emotions rising and falling for her mouth to be able to produce anything more than 'oh.'

"I didn't mean to upset you but, like I said, I've been coming back almost every night since I heard your first story. I just couldn't help myself. I tried not to listen when you began talking about the water temperature, but I couldn't help it you were just so descriptive and-"

"Stop!" Wendy said, her mouth very dry and her eyes wide.

"If it helps, I haven't been able to go back to the springs since, or up Mt. Never as a matter of fact. The way you used that imagery was-"

"It doesn't!" She cut him off.

His face fell and she instantly regretted her bluntness… She sighed and said, "Your shadow, what does it look like?"

He face instantly came to life with delighted eyes and that ever-present sly smile returned to his lips as he began his description. "Like me, obviously" he stated, purposefully using her own phrase against her. She couldn't help but smile at his joke. "But seriously, he wont be easy to find. He's a massive trouble maker and stubborn as a mule."

"Like you, obviously," she retorted. He laughed in that way she had always imagined, light but full of life and energy.

"Is that right?" he was still laughing.

"I'm not the one who said it!" She was laughing now too. Was she, flirting? Was she, Wendy Moira Angela Darling, actually flirting with a boy who was both gorgeous and funny without babbling or saying anything stupid? Was she really making _him_ be the one who was babbling and becoming flustered when he thought the wrong thing or mistakenly let something slip?

Still smiling she said, "Lets find this douche bag."

They searched the room for hours. Peter had had to hide under her bed when her father had come in to bade her goodnight and sweet dreams, she had no intention of sleeping however, not when there was a rogue shadow belonging to a guy sneaking around her room. They kept looking until a blinding flash of white light forced its way through the window, which her father had closed, and disappeared into her old role top desk. Intrigued, she had made her way over and began to open the top drawer when a lean dark shape burst from the draw making her jump in fright and slam the draw shut, too late. The shadow bounded this way and that, running up the walls and lying on the ceiling, slipping underneath their feet and hiding in the dark corners of her room. After 5 minutes of silent struggle they decided that this wasn't going to work.

"We are going to need a plan," said Peter.

"I agree." she stated almost immediately, "This can't go on. I'm already out of breath and that thing seems to be having the time of his life."

"How about we corner him on the count of three?"

"Ok but which side should I attack on?"

"I don't know… wing it." He began to make his way back towards his shadow.

"Wing it- what? Peter we are going to need a foolproof plan. We can't just run at it and hope for the best!" She tried to explain.

"See that's where I've never agreed with your stories." He said. " You always find some way of the characters knowing exactly what is going to happen to them next, like they have a seen a step by step guide as to how their day will go. But that's never how real life happens. Real life is unpredictable. Sometimes you just need to… how did you put it? 'Run at it and hope for the best', I mean… that's how all the best adventures start don't they?"

If she was having doubts about her feelings for Peter they were rapidly starting to slip effortlessly away.

"Fine. On the count of three! One… Two… Three!"


End file.
